Daddy Daze – It’ll come out in the wash…
After an incredibly amazing Wellington summer, autumn has suddenly appeared with changeable days, slightly lower temperatures, some rain, a bit of wind (we do still live in Wellington right?), and the return of the perma-frown on the Washing Lady’s face!
To clarify: our “Washing Lady” is my darling wife. She hates it, but is a damn sight better at it than me, so had to step up and take responsibility for all things laundry-related in the division of household tasks negotiations.
The origins of “the frown” are convoluted and I often find myself, suspiciously, at fault. You see, the changeable weather means the kiddo has to wear a bit of extra clothing. On kindy days, I am “in charge” of wrangling him into his clothes for the day, and as days the days have been growing shorter this has been happening in the chill of early morning light. So off to kindy he goes in trackie-daks and a hoodie, only to come home in shorts and a t-shirt. Both outfits are apparently “caked, crusted and totally overwhelmed” by the sand enemy.
So. Much. Sand. To the point which “The Process” has been put in place to limit the distribution of this substance (which is only equaled by glitter in terms of evilness apparently!).
Before leaving kindy, kiddo is either hosed off or has to perform a random shake it off dance routine, then before getting in the car his feet get dusted with powder (which is apparently well known for its sand repelling properties!), and his shoes are placed into a container which now resides in the back of the car. When they get home, all kiddo-clothing gets removed in the garage (cue afternoon tea in the nuddie!), and transported to the laundry. Bath-time immediately follows afternoon tea, after which kiddo is deemed sand-free enough to play while battle with said sand commences. Shaking, bashing and growling at the clothes before soaking them appears mandatory, but the washing machine still needs rinsing out after every couple of loads and the dryer vent rains a light sandy-mist over the laundry room.
My almost fatal error was interfering in The Process by, unpredictably, deciding to fold a load of laundry! I thought I was doing something awesome. But there was a flaw in my plan. Tipping out the apparently clean and fresh clothing on to the unmade bed, specifically the opposite side to where I was resting, meant my darling spouse was treated to a slightly more exfoliating than usual slumber! Apparently I missed a second shaking, bashing and growling step. I have now been educated!
Let battle commence….